


Daddy's Love

by JerseyGirl



Series: Daddy Issues [2]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Bottom Steve McGarrett, Daddy Issues, Daddy Kink, Father-Son Relationship, Hand Jobs, Home, Love, M/M, Memories, Morning After, Oral Sex, POV Steve McGarrett, Realization, Requited Love, Sleepiness, Sons, Submission, Top Danny "Danno" Williams
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-23
Updated: 2012-06-24
Packaged: 2017-11-08 09:24:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/441685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JerseyGirl/pseuds/JerseyGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Somehow…in ways Steve would probably never fully understand…Danny <i>got</i> it. He got what Steve needed, and to Steve’s great relief, it seemed <i>he</i> wanted it, too. </p><p>Part 2 of what is now a series called "Daddy Issues." You will need to read Part 1 - "Daddy's Boy" - in order to fully understand this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Waking From the Past

**Author's Note:**

> I have been touched by the comments and the number of kudos that "Daddy's Boy" has received. I always fully intended to continue through Steve's POV so we could see where this was all coming from on his side of the equation. I do hope I have done them both justice in my attempt to do so.

As Steve’s consciousness swam slowly into wakefulness, the first sensation he became aware of was _safe_. Then he was overwhelmed by _love_. His eyes were partly crusted shut from all the crying he’d done, but he forced his eyelids open at the same time that he breathed in deeply, only to find himself surrounded by Danny _Daddy_ …memories. 

He was facing the wall on the side of the bed where he usually slept, and warm puffs of breath were leaving dampness on the back of his neck. He was engulfed in everything Danny, his partner’s arms wrapped around his chest, Danny’s knees tucked up under the backs of Steve’s in their near-fetal position. 

Chest hairs warmed and tickled his back and morning wood pressed against his tailbone. Rather than tense up, which is what Steve always expected he would do if he woke in bed with his partner like this – and yes, the thought had more than just crossed his mind in the past – Steve felt himself remain as relaxed as he apparently had been while sleeping. 

And that? That was saying something. 

Both that he’d actually been relaxed _and_ that he had slept. 

The first rays of the sun were peeking in through the room’s lone window, casting an ethereal glow in shades of pinks and grays. Danny snuffled a bit and Steve prayed Danny would stay sleeping just a little longer so he could really and truly mesh conscious with subconscious; logic with emotion; reality with fantasy. 

His whole life, he’d only recently begun to understand, he’d been trying to impress his father. To win love that seemed never to be there for either him or his sister. Where his mother had been warm, gentle and generous with kisses, hugs and touches, his father had been distant. Not cold, exactly, but not forthcoming with approval or praise. 

As a boy of only six, having just learned to ride a bicycle without training wheels, Steve had expected a pleased look on his father’s face at the very least. He’d hoped for a hug, some words of praise. Instead, he’d received criticism over wobbling along the white line on the side of the road, and had been told precisely what he was doing wrong. His mom had hugged him, crowed over his achievement. 

But as welcome as that was from her, that wasn’t what little Steve longed for. 

Taking his first full thirty-foot barrel run on the surfboard Mamo had hand-crafted just for him at age ten had been exhilarating, a thrill like no other that to this day Steve found hard-pressed to equal with anything else in his life. And while his father and mother had never been into surfing like he and Mary were, growing up there, his mom beamed with pride and lauded him for the achievement. 

When he’d excitedly relayed his triumph to his father that night after his dad came home from work? John had barely batted an eyelash. 

Steve tried now, as an adult, to rationalize his dad’s behavior. He understood a little better how preoccupied John had been with the truths he was uncovering, with the systematic investigation that was revealing just how corrupt Honolulu’s police department and very government was from top to bottom. He got how much that must have affected his dad, how worried he was about his family. Hell, Steve had even sent Mary away the same as their father had done to both of them to try and keep her safe. So yeah, logically, he got why his dad _was_ always preoccupied. _Was_ so focused on work that he didn’t seem to have time to lavish his family with love and attention. 

Yet understanding that logically didn’t help the little boy locked tightly away deep inside the core of his being who never got what he wanted from the man he tried so hard to please. To find out from Chin that John had attended every single one of his football games, even dragging his partner with him and exuding his pride without prejudice in Chin’s presence hadn’t made Steve feel better. It’d made him feel _worse_. 

Because how could John sit on the bleachers with his work partner and gush over how good his son was, yet never actually tell his own son that to his face? How could he want to see Steve play so much that he would come in uniform, Chin at his side also in uniform, stay for the whole game and then cut out before Steve had ever known he was there? What had made John so emotionally unavailable that it’d left this hollow, aching need inside Steve that he’d never been able to fill? 

Well, never until now, maybe. 

The thing was, Steve wasn’t entirely sure how explain his seemingly strange and yet very real need for praise, acceptance and being cared for like he was still a little kid. Strange because it somehow had gone from simply wanting to be told he was good at what he did – much like Danny had confessed _he_ wanted not long after they’d met – to being something wound so tightly with his libido that when Danny offered those things because it was simply in his nature to do so, it made a different kind of want and need bubble to the surface. 

He supposed he hadn’t lied to Danny in telling him it had started back when Danny had looked after him when he came down with a cold. Steve _never_ got sick. In fact, as a child he’d been sick maybe five times all-told from birth to age eighteen. As an adult, he’d gotten sick once as a sophomore at Annapolis when a flu epidemic swept through the campus and took down three-quarters of the student and teacher population for a whole week. 

But this cold, well, it blindsided him, and it was something he simply hadn’t wanted to give into because of everything that was weighing on his mind, everything that he was trying to un-learn and re-learn about being in the Navy vs. being a civilian cop. And through it all those first seven weeks, never missing a beat, had been Danny. 

It was, if Steve allowed himself to get stupidly romantic about the whole thing…it was as if Danny had been sent specifically there, even though it was against his will, to be waiting for Steve when he arrived in the aftermath of hearing his father murdered. As though the five-foot-five man who wore bravado like armor was the entire reason Steve had returned to Hawaii. Like maybe John’s death and the governor’s task force had simply been the means by which Steve would be forced to leave active duty and remain on Oahu. 

He could almost see a giant finger in the sky moving the pieces of different peoples’ lives around seemingly at random, but with a greater purpose in mind. He saw as the finger moved Rachel into another man’s arms, and away from Danny. He saw the finger move Rachel, Stan and Grace to Hawaii even as it flung Anton Hesse to Korea and his brother Victor to Honolulu. He saw as the finger decided Anton would die, decided John would die, and wondered if the owner of that cosmic finger had known what a need for justice that would instill in Steve’s psyche. 

The cosmic consciousness _must_ have known. It must have known when it moved Danny to Hawaii, like moving chess pieces square to square on a board, that six months later not only would Steve hear his father shot to death, but that Danny would be given the case, and be working it without his partner at the time. 

It almost made Steve’s head hurt to think this way, and maybe it was all just wishful bullshit. But to now see the type of man Danny was, how desperately he needed to be a father, loved it, _reveled_ in it…and for Steve to know how much he himself needed a man he could trust implicitly with every facet of who he was, well…Steve didn’t see how anything but Fate or God or numerous gods or the Universe or whatever anyone wanted to call it, could have brought New Jersey and Hawaii so close together when they were five thousand miles apart. 

It had taken his breath away when he’d seen Danny hug Grace for the first time. Seen the love shining from those blue eyes, seen the features of Danny’s face soften into nothing like the sarcastic, swaggering, ranting partner he’d come to know. There was a magnetic pull in Danny even back when they’d first met that had stirred something deep in Steve’s belly. Something he would never have been able to identify back then, just having come off an op gone bad, from having been in the Navy his entire adult life. But he’d seen _something_ , and so he’d done the only thing he knew _how_ to do: ordered the man to remain in his sphere of existence by making him his partner. 

And then had come ‘Danno.’ 

What his daughter called him. A special word between the two of them only. A name nobody other than Grace used, something Danny found so sacred that he forbade Steve from saying it. Which, of course, hadn’t stopped Steve one bit. 

He supposed it could have gone either way, really, after he started using it regularly in conjunction with ‘Book ‘em.’ He supposed Danny could have clocked him in the jaw again, that Danny could’ve sat him down and explained in no uncertain terms, at great length and with great volume precisely why if Steve ever called him Danno again he’d find out just how Jersey Danny could go on him. 

But that’s not what had happened. Steve, for his part, couldn’t _help_ but want to call his partner that name, because to Steve, it represented that unconditional love Danny had for his little girl...for his child. And getting to say the word, even if it only was any time he wanted Danny to book a bad guy, somehow let Steve into that in the most peripheral, yet real, way possible. He got to call him Danno. The word would roll of his lips and send a surge of equal parts pleasure and warmth singing through his mind and body. 

And then it happened. Suddenly one day Steve felt the need to explain himself, and the best way he could think of that wouldn’t make Danny look at him cross-eyed was that this was a term of endearment. And…it was. It was Steve’s way of referencing Danny’s fatherhood, Danny’s inherent streak of ‘caretaker’ that he tried to keep hidden but so very often failed to. “This is me needing to be able to see you that way,” Steve wanted to say, though at that point he hadn’t quite understood how far that need had gone. “This is me wanting to be to you what your daughter is, me wanting that look leveled at me, wanting those arms around me, wanting to be taken care of and loved the way you do her.” 

But Christ, it was _so_ much more than that. 

Instead of telling Steve to shut up, instead of berating him for lacking in common sense or brain cells…instead of interrogating him about _why_ , though, Danny had simply said, “Do it every day, I like it.” 

Steve’s smile had burst forth without him even being aware of it. On some level, whether Danny had known it or not, he’d accepted Steve as his in that barely-there moment. Steve didn’t know if Danny had a clue about him back then, didn’t know if Danny had purposely accepted this just because Steve never let it go or whether something deeper was at play in Danny’s mind or even in his subconscious. 

But whatever Danny’s reasons for the permission he’d given, it had made Steve’s heart leap within his chest, made him simply want to grab hold of the smaller man and never let go. And it wasn’t lost on him, the irony that the man he was looking up to was a man he had to look _down_ at the majority of the time due to stature. Steve had turned to walk away from him then, afraid his smile or his eyes would give away about how much Danny’s words had meant to him. Afraid that if he didn’t walk away, he would act on the desire for closeness that was hitting him from every possible angle as he looked into Danny’s eyes. 

And then North Korea had happened, and Steve had felt so very alone, drawing on every bit of strength he had both mental and physical to survive. His dream, his fantasy, had been Danny the Father coming to rescue his son from being stuck up the tree with no way to get down. From being surrounded on the playground by a group of bullies intent on beating Steve the Boy to a bloody pulp. To rescue him from his misplaced trust in another human being. To rescue him, maybe, from himself. Yet he’d known it was nothing more than a pipe dream, that Danny wouldn’t know he was in trouble. That Danny wouldn’t fly all the way to North Korea, that there was no _way_ he’d show up there like Steve made himself fantasize over and over just to stay sane, awake and alive. 

But the flap had lifted, light blinding him. And in the glow that happened before his eyesight adjusted, he’d seen Danny’s face appear like maybe it was coming from Heaven itself. Like Danny was a magical being who’d somehow found him and was there to save him once and for all from everything that was wrong and broken, from North Korea, from insanity, from death. 

It wasn’t a dream. It wasn’t fantasy. It was _real_. 

Danny was _there._

He wasn’t an apparition. His voice was washing over Steve as his hands moved quickly to untie him. Once they’d landed in Honolulu many, many hours later, Steve had fully expected a Danno Rant of Epic Proportions. Yet it had never come. Instead had come Caretaker Danny. The look in those eyes when his gaze was leveled at Steve tore into the fabric of Steve’s very being. His quiet, gentle words when he helped Steve through getting his pants and shirt on, his praise for every little bit of progress Steve made as he healed from his wounds. 

The way he sat on Steve’s bed and soothed him after a nightmare had made him afraid of his own shadow, cowering in his sweat-soaked bed like a scared little boy. Fear, like a clawing beast raging within him, quieted only by gentle hands, by “Nothing to be ashamed of, Steve,” and “You’re doing pretty good for a guy who got tortured,” and “I’m sorry I didn’t stop you from going,” and “Stay with me, Steve, you’re safe now.” Murmured words, sometimes whispered. Full-blown rages over what Jenna had done, what Wo Fat had done. Overprotectiveness in spades, all directed toward Steve. Words specifically for Steve. _About_ Steve. _Of_ Steve. 

And he drank it all in. He even went so far as to wince on purpose sometimes, just to get those hands back on his body, to get that concern back in his space, to listen to Danny take care of him, _feel_ Danny’s love wrap around him solid and sure, a warm, soft blanket made out of titanium that nothing could get through. 

Somehow…in ways Steve would probably never fully understand…Danny _got_ it. He got what Steve needed, and to Steve’s great relief, it seemed _he_ wanted it, too. Like maybe he needed to care for Steve as much as Steve needed that fatherly focus on him. And while Steve had never fantasized about being sexually involved with his actual father, there was something about Danny that stirred long-hidden desires. Desires that over time had become so inextricably entwined with every facet of Danny’s personality, every nuance of their interaction with each other, that the more Danny became the father to the child inside of Steve, the more turned on Adult Steve became. 

Until at last there was no hiding from it anymore. Danny had been right, there in the laundry room: Steve _had_ wanted to show Danny his body. To seek approval on his looks just as much as he’d always been trying to seek approval on his actions, his deeds. This one last thing between them as yet untouched, as yet unspoken, Steve needed to _know_. He wanted Danny in every way, wanted this man to never leave his side, to never leave his home, to make it _their_ home. He craved the affection, the touches, the love, both the fierce and tender sides of the man standing in the doorway with his bare feet drawing Steve’s eyes to linger. 

And when Danny had taken Steve in his arms, commanded him to use his words, held him so tightly, body telling Steve everything that maybe even Danny hadn’t yet found words for, it was Steve’s undoing. He’d sagged into those arms, into Danny, and hadn’t actually meant to call him ‘Daddy’ yet there it had been, wrapped inside a strangled sob as he allowed himself to give in to it all. 

Danny accepted. Danny took charge. Danny laid down ground rules and made it clear this wasn’t a thing where he expected one hundred percent of Steve’s life to become like he was a little kid again. Where Danny could somehow mix the two of them as grown men making love with being the daddy that little Stevie had never had. That Danny could do this for him, that Danny _wanted_ this for _them_ , it stole Steve’s breath away even now as he felt Danny stir behind him. 

Steve wasn’t quite sure what would happen when Danny woke. He didn’t know how to act on a lazy Saturday morning in bed with little Stevie wanting Daddy’s attention at the same time Big Steve wanted Danny’s cock buried in his ass again. It was so odd, these warring factions that somehow made up the whole of who he was. But when Danny’s right hand moved and grazed across Steve’s nipple, the gasp that came from Steve told him everything he needed to know. 

As did the smile he could feel against the knob of his spine. 

“Good morning, Steve,” Danny said, voice rough in its first use of the day. Then he kissed the nape of Steve’s neck, tongue darting out to taste, and Steve let out a sigh of contentment that seemed to come from his very toes. 

“Good morning, Danny,” Steve whispered, so careful not to break this precious moment when sleep-warm bodies began to stir. He lifted the hand that Danny was still rubbing through his chest hairs up, and gently kissed the palm of it once…twice. 

“I got morning breath,” Danny complained quietly, and Steve grinned. 

“Me, too,” he replied. “But your fingers don’t seem to mind.” To prove his point, he sucked Danny’s index finger into his mouth and Danny groaned in response, hips moving forward to grind his erection into the small of Steve’s back. Steve grinned around the finger as he slowly pulled it all the way out, then wiggled his ass. Oh, how he wanted Danny to take him right then and there, no more words, no more thoughts crowding their way into his head. 

And Danny showed how well he knew Steve, how much he knew about what Steve needed and wanted, when he said softly, “Use your words, Steven.” 

Steve’s eyes closed as an ache settled into his chest that he knew meant love in every sense of the word. Something that he felt sounded so corny, something that he was desperate to convey, that only two words could no matter how cheesy they sounded in his own mind. But Danny wouldn’t laugh at him, because daddies didn’t do that to their boys. 

Danny would do it, he _knew_ Danny would, and so he inhaled, eyes closing in a silent prayer as Danny asked, “What do you want me to do, Stevie?” 

Danny’s arms tightened around him as if to say _it’s okay, I won’t laugh_ and so Steve obeyed by saying, “Take me.” 

It was all he wanted. 

And Danny understood. 


	2. Take Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morning sex might be sleepy, but it's no less explosive...

Steve’s back arched as Danny’s hands moved, his left pulling out from under Steve’s body, his right tracing a line along Steve’s side to his hip. Another kiss to the knob of his spine. Lips dragging across his right shoulder and down. Danny nosed into the spot where Steve’s arm covered his armpit. When he inhaled deeply, Steve couldn’t help the whimper. It was like Danny was drinking him in, every bit of his scent, every pheromone he was giving off. Every drop of sweat that had dried, every tear that had been cried was filling Danny like he was an empty vessel who might die without Steve filling him. 

“Shhh,” came from directly behind his right ear. “I got you, Steve.” 

“Yeah,” Steve said, voice cracking in spite of him trying to keep it level. “Yeah, you do.” 

The smile against his skin as those lips parted for Danny’s tongue to skate down along Steve’s jugular, Danny angling himself now so that the tip of his cock pressed into Steve’s spine. 

“Can you let me love you like this?” Danny asked, once more from next to Steve’s ear. “Love all of you? Every part of you that even _you_ don’t want?” 

Steve began to nod, but remembered Rule Number One and suddenly he was six again, only this time instead of being berated for being imperfect, he was being told he was going to be loved imperfections and all. 

“Love me, Daddy,” Steve whispered, feeling tears he didn’t think would be left after last night beginning to fill his eyes. “Please just love me.” 

And his heart was breaking even as it was being sewn back together, stitch by agonizing stitch, the needle hurting but _needing_ to hurt so Steve could feel it, could feel every single move his partner made in an effort to give him this. 

No words came from Danny this time. No more kisses or touches for long, stretched-out seconds. And Steve froze, wondering if he’d done something wrong, if he’d disappointed him somehow by begging to be loved, if he shouldn’t have done that, shouldn’t have sounded so needy, so desperate. He became afraid, unable to bear the thought of losing this almost before it had truly begun. He wanted to turn and wrap Danny in his arms, never let him move, force him to stay there and be Daddy. 

But then all those thoughts came to a screeching halt when he felt a shaking behind him and heard a sniffle, and through it all came Danny’s tremulous voice whispering, “God, Stevie, I do. I do, and I will.” And then he knew his words had caused _Danny_ to cry. 

There was no way for Steve to describe even in his own mind how deeply Danny’s reaction affected him. That Danny cared _so much_ for him that his plea for love had wounded Danny as though the fault laid with him, rather than Steve’s actual father. 

“I’m sorry,” Steve said. 

“No!” Danny whispered fiercely, reaching around Steve, flattening his palm against Steve’s left cheek, turning his face gently just enough that their eyes could meet. As he saw a tear escape Danny’s left eye, as he felt it splash down onto his own neck, Danny whispered, “Don’t you _ever_ be sorry for needing love, Stevie. I will never stop giving it to you, _never_. But you will _not_ apologize for needing me, any more than I will apologize for needing you.” 

And yes, there was morning breath, but there was also Danny looking at him like he was the only human being on the face of the Earth that mattered and so Steve forced his head up high enough, twisted at an incredibly awkward angle, to give Danny’s lips a chaste kiss of thanks. 

Danny smiled, released Steve’s head, and allowed him to rest it against the pillow. Danny’s hands caressed Steve’s back, moving up along his spine from tailbone to neck. Over his shoulders, down the length of his right arm. Down further over his right hip, the outside of his thigh. 

Fingers circled back to the right side of Steve’s ass, gently squeezing. Steve’s hips stuttered to life, and he looked down at his erection protruding from where his legs were still pulled up as they’d been while sleeping spooned by his Daddy. 

“You’re perfect,” Danny murmured into his skin, kissing everywhere he could reach with his lips as his fingers moved down the curve of Steve’s ass and slid between his legs. He stroked Steve’s perineum, pressing forward into his balls and Steve found himself arching his back yet again, shoving his ass toward Danny. “So sensitive,” Danny continued, tongue licking stripes onto Steve’s skin, branding him as air cooled the heated saliva left behind. 

Steve reached back with his right hand and pulled at his own ass, separating the cheeks to show himself off. 

“Mmm, you want me to touch you there, is that what this means?” 

Steve nodded, but Danny pulled his hand away completely. “Tell me,” Danny said and Steve blanched, because he’d forgotten Rule Number One again. He swallowed hard, made to move his hand, but Danny caught it. “No. Stay just like that, Steve. Tell me what how you want me to take you.” 

Steve’s cock jerked so hard he nearly choked on the gasp that punched out of him. “I want…” He closed his eyes. He had to _tell_ Danny because Daddy wanted to know. “I want your fingers to touch my hole,” he whispered, feeling foolish saying it aloud, but knowing he mustn’t do otherwise. “I want…I want you to touch me. I want you inside me.” It became easier, his mind’s eye offering gloriously bright images as he allowed himself to voice his desire. “I want you to feel how tight I am around your cock. I want to be yours, owned by you, by nobody else.” 

“Oh, baby,” Danny whispered, kissing the back of Steve’s elbow. “You’re so good, such a good boy, so obedient.” And Danny’s hand moved so fast that the press of his index finger into Steve’s ass made Steve’s entire body clench, go rigid, then relax back into this man who held every piece of him in two Jersey-made hands. “I reward you for doing what you’re told, Stevie,” and Steve couldn’t help the wide smile that stretched his lips. 

He pushed his ass against Danny’s hand, felt that it was slick inside him, and realized that had to be because Danny’s come had been in him all night as they slept, and was still in him keeping him wet. His hole was still pretty loose, as Danny added a second finger, pressing into him, searching, moving, scissoring and then his prostate and “Oh, _fuck_!” Steve whimpered, pushing back _harder_ , needing _more_. 

“Tell me,” Danny said, sounding so calm, so cool in this moment where every one of Steve’s nerve endings were on fire because Danny’s hand didn’t stop, _wouldn’t_ stop, stroked his sensitive spot over and over and _over_ as Steve clutched the sheets in front of him. 

“Take me,” Steve said again, it was all he could think, all he could get to come out of his mouth, and in that moment, he felt himself surrender completely to the man behind him at last. Just break, right there, as Danny’s cockhead pressed against his ass, Danny’s hands gentling, soothing, the head of his cock feeling oh-so-big, too big and yet Steve _wanted_ it, he realized, wanted a _man_ , wanted a _cock_ buried inside his body for _ever_ , never to stop, never to look at a woman again. 

He _did_ want to be taken, in every sense of the word. In heart, in life, in body. He wanted to be used, but only by Danny, because he knew Danny wouldn’t use him for bad, only for good. Only to help Steve, to show his love, to receive his love. “Daddy, _Daddy_ ,” Steve whined, and Danny pushed in even further and Steve _craved_. He reached his own hand up and pinched his right nipple, crying out, as Danny finally pushed the rest of the way into his body. 

“Steven,” Danny whispered. “Oh, fuck, you feel so good, I want to make love to you forever.” 

And yes, oh, God, _yes_ , because Danny was right there with him, thinking the same _thoughts_ , like somehow he could read his mind and how could that _be_? 

“I want you to be _mine_ ,” Danny said, cock pulling out and then plunging back in and Steve couldn’t catch his breath because Danny pulled out yet _again_ , so quickly. “You already have my heart, now take _me_ ,” he finished, and stroked into Steve, right hand reaching around, stretching so that he could palm Steve’s cock. 

Steve didn’t know whether to thrust forward or backward, whether to feel Danny’s calloused palm pull his foreskin up and over his glans until it completely covered it, or impale himself on Danny’s erection. So he did both, bucking forward first, shoving his hips backward next. 

Danny’s chest hairs grazed Steve’s skin, only adding to the sensations that were quickly spiraling him headlong into a bliss he’d never known. There was no grace in his movements, no thought process of how to shift just right to feel this or experience that. All he knew was the heaviness of Danny’s body along his right side, his own arm wrapped around Danny’s shoulders as Danny’s hand pumped his cock, gripping hard. As Danny’s cock moved in and out, in and out, in a steady pace that was driving Steve to insanity. 

Taking him apart piece by ugly piece. Taking him apart, scattering him to the winds, then flying up to catch all the little pieces and fit them together again with his hand, his dick, his heart. With himself. 

“Stevie, do you…feel me?” Danny panted, looking along the line of Steve’s chest so he could see his face. 

Steve looked up at him, nodding, sweat pouring off his head into the sheets. “I…I feel you, Daddy.” 

And it seemed like Danny ran out of words, because it was all he could do to keep jacking Steve’s cock like his life depended on making Steve come, and Steve was _oh_ , so close, and Danny’s cock was so huge, filling him over and over again, filling him like Steve had asked, using his body to make himself come, and the thought of Danny’s seed filling him, of what that meant, of how that was going so deeply inside his body to a place only _Danny_ could touch, it made Steve groan and Danny let go of Steve’s cock and rocked Steve’s hips forward enough that he had more leverage. 

His cock _pounded_ into Steve’s prostate and it was all Steve could do not to skitter away from the painful pleasure that made fireworks explode everywhere he looked. He felt like he was being ripped in two, like Danny would just keep going and going and going and like Steve would never be able to come and like Danny would _choose_ to never come because he wanted to take Steve, to _give_ Steve everything he’d asked for, and more, more, to _own_ him, every inch of him. 

And Steve let him have it, because this was the man that he loved. 

The man that he _loved_. 

“Danny!” Steve cried, feeling the man in him emerge, feeling confidence in his body as Danny practically flattened him into the bed and Danny responded to the cry of his name by slowing…slowing…and then thrusting in one last time. Steve _felt_ the instant Danny’s cock jerked as the first wave of Danny’s orgasm hit. 

“ _Oh!_ ” Danny exclaimed softly, hands gripping Steve’s hips _so_ tight and Steve wondered if maybe _Danny_ was afraid he’d be the one flying into the air without a tether, so he reached down, grabbed Danny’s hand as Danny kept twitching, quietly coming, until there was nothing left to be given to Steve’s body. 

And then Danny, moving like he was crawling through molasses, pulled out of Steve’s ass, leaving Steve feeling empty. Danny rolled across his legs and pulled himself up the bed until he was mouth-level with Steve’s angrily weeping cock. 

Danny looked up at him like he was operating in a haze, and the moment their eyes connected Steve could feel that even though Danny had come already, even though he was well and truly spent, _this_ was Danny making sure _Steve_ was taken care of no matter how much he might just want to drop off in a post-coital coma. 

So Steve reached down, caressed the side of Danny’s face and whispered, “You don’t have to.” 

Danny’s smile, the one reserved only for Steve, was instant and brilliant as it shone up from Danny’s sleepy-looking face. “Yeah, I do, babe,” he said, and before Steve could even parse that sentence for meaning, Danny’s mouth was surrounding his cock, lips forcing his foreskin back away from the glans, and Danny, fuck, Danny took his _entire_ erection into his mouth, straight down his throat and Steve’s hips bucked forward into the wet heat and he _groaned_. 

It wasn’t going to take long, Steve knew, not like this, not with that _mouth_ , Jesus _fuck_ , that _mouth_ of Danny’s working him, tongue licking, swirling around the tip, dipping into Steve’s slit even as Danny’s palm worked Steve’s foreskin up and up, kept pulling it forward over his glans, licking down the sides of his cock with it _so_ stretched, and Steve could hear himself making every sound under the sun and some he was sure had never existed until this moment when Danny was making every kind of love to him that there was. 

And that thought, that one thought combined with Danny quickly releasing his foreskin and taking him all the way into the depths of his throat again, that was all it took. Steve shouted out his lover’s name, hips moving of their own volition, him unable to control anything they were doing, and he realized that as surely as Danny’s come was buried deep inside his own body, now his _own_ come was going deep into Danny’s. His cock twitched _hard_ , Steve felt it to his toes, and cried out _again_ as the last of his orgasm punched out of him like it was being ripped from every cell of his being. 

There were moments that, later, he was sure must have been unconscious in the aftermath of coming like a freight train. But Danny had scooted up and when Steve was finally able to pry his eyes open to find him there, sleepy blues surrounded by golden lashes watching him, a small smile greeting him with the “Hi” that came from his partner, he could do nothing but reach out with both hands and pull Danny completely to him, holding on, holding on for dear _life_ as Danny’s arms did the same, shoving between his rib cage and the mattress, legs intertwining with legs. 

They were together in this, in every way. 

And if Steve could’ve kept his eyes open, he would’ve, because he could have spent the next hour staring into crystal blue eyes tinged with flecks of orange. But he couldn’t, the emotions combined with his body feeling more sated than _any_ thing had ever left him, made his eyelids flutter shut. 

“Don’t want to sleep,” he heard himself say petulantly, like maybe he could convince his body not to shut down. 

Answered by a soft chuckle, by Danny’s fingers combing through his hair. “Only a short nap, Steve,” he said. “Then we’ve got some work to do around here.” 

Steve’s eyelids popped open, and he smiled brightly. “Can I help?” he asked, and then bit his lip and looked away, feeling so foolish after saying such grown-up things, having such grown-up emotions and grown-up sex, for God’s sake. 

“Ah-ah, now, Stevie,” Danny chastised. “None of that, now, son. Don’t be embarrassed. Of _course_ you can help. We’ll do it together.” 

“Do what?” Steve asked. 

“Make this,” Danny said, waving his hand around the airspace above them, “our home.” 

Danny taking charge. 

Relief. 

“Okay?” 

Danny giving him an out. 

He didn’t _want_ an out. 

“Yes,” Steve said, nodding and letting his eyelids close as he rearranged himself so that he could bury his face against the soft dark hairs of Danny’s chest. “Our home.” 

Danny’s last move was to place a kiss to the top of Steve’s head before his hands stilled, locked in an embrace Steve couldn’t get out of even if he wanted to. 

And Steve knew that in this moment, there was only one thing he could say. “I love you, Danny.” 

“I love _you_ , partner.” 

Steve fell asleep listening to the beating heart of Danny…and Daddy…that it seemed had plenty of love to share. And the child within him? Didn’t feel so unloved anymore. 

All because of a daddy’s love. 

All because of Danny. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you once again, everyone, for your kind comments and kudos. Hopefully I will be able to do some more in this series so we can see what happens when the partners are outside of the safety and solitude of their home...


End file.
